


Clocks

by SaxuallyActive



Series: Buyout Blues [5]
Category: Hockey RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-13
Updated: 2014-01-13
Packaged: 2018-01-08 14:02:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1133486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaxuallyActive/pseuds/SaxuallyActive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's New Years, and both men have a reason to celebrate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clocks

**Author's Note:**

> The lights go out and I can't be saved  
> Tides that I tried to swim against  
> Have brought me down upon my knees  
> Oh I beg, I beg and plead.

_January 1, approx. 12am MST_

Claude is finally in the hotel room, and he’s changing for the team party that’s going on right now. They just got back to the hotel, just in time for everyone to countdown obnoxiously in the hotel lobby.

Everyone is saying that they doused the Flames to end 2013. And Claude agrees. With a 4 – 1 victory, you can’t go wrong.

By the time Claude gets dressed he finally checks his phone. There’s a handful of texts, and there’s one from Danny from about 9pm.

_Happy new year Clo!!!!!!!!!!!!_

Jesus Christ, could he add any more exclamation points? Claude guesses Danny’s drunk in Carolina right now with the rest of the Habs. It’s weird, Claude thinks to himself, this time last year he was with Danny, and they were doing shots together in Germany.

Claude sighs, and tucks his phone in his pocket without replying.

He gets down to the banquet room, and half of the team is piss drunk. Scotty is giving Raffl never-ending drinks, and Steve is drinking some beer as he walks up to Claude and hands him a freshly-opened beer.

“Good job tonight, man!” Claude says, patting Steve on the back.

“Nah,” Steve replies, taking a sip. “It’s nothing, really.”

“You’ve impressed me a lot, Mase.” Claude admits, patting Steve’s shoulder gently.

“Thanks, Claude.” Steve squeaks out, the smile on his face so wide that his cheeks begin to hurt. He wanders across the room to an impromptu buffet of pasta, hors d'oeuvres, and bowls of fruit and chips.

Claude watches the party unfold in front of him—all of his brothers and team mates getting sloshy and stuffing their faces with food. Claude felt out of sync with the rest of his team. He had felt this way since the season began.

The soft thump of music begins, and a few team members cheer. Brayden Schenn is grinding on someone, and most of the forwards think it’s fucking hilarious.

“You okay?” Someone says in his ear. Claude turns around and it’s Sean, whose hand is tightened around a can of beer.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m okay, I guess.”

“You text him?” Sean asks, nonchalantly sipping his beer.

“Who?”

“You know who, don’t play coy.”

“No, not yet. Did he text you?” Claude replies, his hand fingering the edge of his pocket.

“Yeah, he’s probably wasted.”

“Oh.” Claude lets the word hang in the air. A wasted Danny is never a good Danny.

In the back of Claude’s mind, he remembers some ridiculous night in a dark time of Danny’s life. Claude can only recall the memory, but never the date.

Claude came home from the store and dumped the groceries on the counter, and called out into the nearly silent house, only occupied by the buzz of the muted TV that was on, the fridge, and the heat.

“Danny?” Claude began to wander around the house, calling out into every nook. Danny’s car was in the drive; therefore, Danny had to be there.

Claude walked upstairs, and began calling into the bedrooms. “Danny? Danny?”

Claude rounded the corner to the bathroom, and found Danny sitting on the floor, his elbow propped on the rim of the toilet seat, and his hand gripping a bottle of liquor.

“Danny, dammit…what the hell…” Claude said, his words injected with pain.

Danny’s blood-shot eyes looked Claude over. He was gone.

“Why are you doing this?” Claude asked gently as he knelt down, and wrapped his fingers around Danny’s bottle.

“I’m sorry, Clo…I couldn’t…” Danny couldn’t force out any other words. He looked pitiful. He released the bottle without a fight, something Claude was very happy about.

“It’s okay. Okay?” Claude put the bottle behind him and sat beside Danny. He lifted his hand and combed through Danny’s hair.

“Okay, Clo.” Danny responded, pushing his head into Claude’s hand, like a kitten responding to the touch of its owner.

Claude breathed in deeply. The way Danny had surrendered to him was absolutely terrifying. In other instances of drunkenness from him, Danny had always been cocky and hard-headed, never was he tame and subordinate.

Claude shakes his head and crosses the room, away from Sean. Claude slips his fingers into his pocket and pulls out his phone.

_happy new year danny, plz don’t drink so much_

Claude puts his phone back in his pocket and grabs a small plate of food before heading back up to his room without a word to anyone.

In the elevator, Claude pulls out his phone and sees a reply on his phone screen.

_Im ok!! Im about to pass out lol. Call me???_

Claude sighs.

_ok_

The elevator opens up and Claude finds his way to his room. As soon as he slips his card into the door, he drops a shoulder into the hollow door and nearly runs into his room.

Before he knows it, he’s calling Danny.

“Hi Clo!” Danny whispers.

“Hey, why are you whispering?”

“I’m supposed to be sleeping.” Danny giggles.

“Oh, alright.” Claude says back, smiling at the sound of Danny’s voice.

“I’m still a little tipsy. Wanna play the question game?”

“The only people that play the question game are teen girls or teens that are flirting.”

“So?”

“Fine.”

Danny laughs.

“Do you miss me, Clo?”

“Of course I do. Do you miss _me,_ Danny?”

Danny giggles. “Yes!”

Claude falls into his bed.

“Okay, Clo. Are you with anyone right now?”

“Nah, too much drama.” Claude switches the subject. “Did you have fun tonight?”

“Yeah! Do you miss me, Clo?”

“Danny, I already answered that.”

“ _So?_ ”

“Yes, Danny. _I miss you._ ”

“Okay, good. I just like hearing that.”

“You have a pretty voice.” Claude slips. Whoops.

“I think so, too.” Danny sighs. “Do you want to kiss me again?”

Claude breathes deeply, contemplating his exact response.

 _“No”_ would produce a shit storm. _“Maybe”_ would give Danny anxiety attacks. And “yes” would made Danny’s heart explode.

“I…I don’t know, Danny.”

“Oh. Okay.”

The phone line is quiet. The two men are listening to each other breath in and out.

“I’m really tired, Danny.”

“Me too, _mon cher_.”

Claude sighs.

“Goodnight, _Danny_.”

“Okay, Clo. Goodnight.”

The phone line is absent of words once more, and Claude eventually thumbs over the “end” button, leaving him to only his thoughts, and the incessant ticking of the clock on the wall.


End file.
